


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by Blaumeise



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaumeise/pseuds/Blaumeise
Summary: Something was wrong.About five minutes ago Duff had knelt down on the carpet, but instead of opening Slash's fly, taking his cock out and delivering the requested blow-job, he was he still crouching there, unmoving, hands resting on Slash's knees, eyeing Slash's crotch as if this was the first time in life he was about to give head.
Relationships: Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Something was wrong. 

About five minutes ago Duff had knelt down on the carpet, but instead of opening Slash's fly, taking his cock out and delivering the requested blow-job, he was he still crouching there, unmoving, hands resting on Slash's knees, eyeing Slash's crotch as if this was the first time in life he was about to give head.

Slash shifted on the couch. He moved his ass an inch forward and spread his legs a little wider in what he hoped might be encouraging. He didn't want to be pushy after all. Still. Nothing.

He sat up, slipped a hand under Duff's hair, rubbed his neck for a minute, and pulled him forward. To hell with not being pushy.

Finally. All it took was a little pressure and Duff's head moved into the desired direction. At least for an inch. Or maybe half an inch. 

This was confusing. They had run through the moves at least a million times during the last twenty years and Duff had never been squeamish about delivering the goods. So why now all of a sudden?

Fuck. Slash wished his mind wasn't so befuddled. If he was honest, he had drunk maybe a little bit too much this evening. Had he said something? Done something? Oh God, he hadn't been wasted enough to offer Duff a drink, had he? No, he was pretty sure he hadn't. He hadn't even brought the bottle. Duff was pretty cool about people drinking around him, but he was adamant about not having any alcohol in his house. Slash was fine with that. Absolutely. He could get drunk elsewhere and then come over to Duff’s for a bit of fun. 

Fun. Yes. The thought brought him back to the problem at hand. Duff still didn't move and in addition something seemed to trouble him. Duff could look very troubled. His eyes would turn wide and dark and worried. And now he turned very troubled looking eyes directly on Slash. 

"I'm not sure I can do this." Duff's voice matched his eyes. There was this little quiver in it that made him sound all confused and innocent. The one that, back in the day, had made total strangers pet his head and buy him another drink. 

Slash scratched his head. This was a first and he had no experience in how to deal with it. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to." There, he had said it. Hadn't been so hard. "We can do this later if you don't feel like it now." No, not hard at all. They would just wait an hour or so, until Duff had gotten over whatever it was that troubled him. Duff's troubles never lasted longer than an hour.

"No." Slash watched in fascination how Duff shook his blond head, and so he didn't get the rest of his words. His cock twitched eagerly and Slash reached out to catch a strand of hair. Maybe waiting an hour wasn't such a good idea. They could just finish this quickly first, and solve Duff’s problem when they were done.

"OK?" Duff asked and Slash realized that he hadn't even gotten a fraction of what he had said. 

"What did you just say?" He should pay attention when Duff was talking. Since he had sobered up, Duff remembered what they were talking about and he had developed a tendency to hold Slash accountable to his promises. 

No more, 'Yeah, I'll do that, baby, tomorrow, OK, and now, if you would please spread your legs a bit wider, sweetie.' Those times were over for good. 

"Are you listening at all?"

There was a tiny hint at annoyance in Duff's voice and if Slash looked carefully, he could see the first traces of those wrinkles between his eyebrows; those wrinkles that meant he wouldn't get any sex because something of greater importance was weighing on Duff's mind. 

"I'm sorry, baby, could you repeat that?" Slash tried to sound contrite and to his relief the wrinkles smoothed out. 

"I said," Duff sighed, "that it's not that I don't want to do this, but that I can't do it."

"You can't?" 

Duff shook his head. 

He couldn't. Slash scratched his crotch through his jeans and tried to give his complaining cock some relief. Did they have to have this conversation with Duff on his knees between his legs as if he was just about to suck his dick? Was it a miracle said dick was becoming confused? 

"Why can't you?" Maybe he had toothaches. That would be an explanation. Duff was afraid of dentists. It also explained why he didn't want to give head. He probably wasn't keen on having anything stuffed into his mouth at all. Poor thing. Slash reached out to stroke his cheek in comfort, but Duff fended him off. So no, no toothache. 

"Because I can't." Duff squirmed a little and the troubled expression deepened. 

A horrible thought crossed Slash's mind and he hardly dared speaking it out loud. 

"Just now? Or not anymore at all?"

Duff squirmed some more. He rubbed his hand’s over Slash’s thighs, up, down, up, down, then inside, and closer to … yes closer, closer… fuck, they were gone. 

"Depends."

Slash waited, but Duff didn't offer anymore. "Depends on what?" 

"How about…" All of a sudden Duff smiled. His eyes sparkled, his face lit up and all trouble vanished into nothing. Fine. Slash sank back in relief. Whatever the problem, it was solved and he would get his blowjob. It was about fucking time. "How about we use a condom? I'm sure I have some in the bathroom, I just go and fetch them and then…"

"A condom?!" Slash sat up in revolt. A condom! Duff wanted to suck his cock through a piece of rubber? And why? Did the taste offend him? After twenty years? Or was he afraid of catching something? "Do you want a fucking AIDS-test from me?" He clamped his legs shut and almost caught Duff's head between them. 

"It's not that." Duff sniffed and the troubled expression was back. Slash didn't care. A condom! 

"Then what the fuck has gotten into your head, huh?" 

"It's just… I mean…" 

"You just mean what?" 

Duff heaved a sigh that seemed to run through his entire body. Then he looked upwards and stared at the ceiling. Slash followed his gaze, but all he saw up there was … well… ceiling. 

"I just think that the last time I gave you a blowjob, your cum tasted like Jack."

"It what?" Slash blinked. Sperm couldn't taste like Jack. If it could he would be busy sucking his own dick and getting a double-thrill out of it.

"Not much, but I'm sure I could taste it." Duff sat back with a huff and focussed directly on Slash. "And that's not good, you know. I shouldn't be drinking whisky through your cock."

"But…" Slash laughed. "You're making this up. It's fucking impossible."

Duff pulled his eyebrows together and a tiny thunderstorm gathered on his forehead. "This is not funny, you know. You're killing me with your fucking cum, and you're making jokes about it."

Slash sobered. "I'm not making fun of you."

"Yes, you do." Duff's expression turned stubborn and Slash saw his chances dwindle. Since he had gotten clean, Duff developed fewer crazy theories, but every once in a while, one popped up and got stuck. Duff could cling to a theory for years. Decades. Maybe even a lifetime. Slash looked at his crotch. What was he going to do if Duff refused to take care of his needs? Go back to chatting up groupies? He didn't want to. He had grown too fond of this arrangement. 

"So, what do you suggest?" he asked eventually. "Because I'm not using condoms."

"They make them with strawberry-taste." Duff cocked his head and smiled. "Or lemon. Although I'd rather have strawberry. Peppermint would be cool, too. You suck dick and have fresh breath afterwards."

"I'm not using condoms," Slash growled. 

Condoms. He wanted to feel Duff's lips on his skin, wanted to experience first hand how his tongue licked and caressed and did all those magnificent, wonderful things to his dick. He wanted to see Duff swallow when he came, wanted to imagine how his sperm ran down his throat instead of being caught in a convenient little bag to be discarded. His sperm wasn't meant to be discarded. That bordered on blasphemy. 

"Then I'd suggest you stop drinking so much." Duff stood up. "I'm sorry, Slash. I really am. I enjoy this, too, you know. But I can't risk my health for it. Not anymore, OK?" 

"But…"

Duff bent down and kissed him on the forehead. 

"I'm sure you'll understand this if you think about it. Once you're sober."

Would he? Slash had his doubts. 

"Oh." Duff looked pointedly at the clock. "I didn't notice that it's already so late. I think I'll go to bed. You can stay if you like. But I suppose it's better if you take the guest-room, you know."

The guestroom? The guestroom? Duff was putting him in the freaking guestroom? What about after-sex cuddling? What about morning-sex and after-morning-sex cuddling?

"What if I fucked you?" Slash suggested. "Like that you wouldn't have to swallow anything."

Duff looked down at him like he was about to explain that, no, he couldn't have that ultra-super-cool new toy all his classmates already had, because Daddy had to pay the bills from what little money he earned at the factory. 

"I don't think that would be a good idea, you know. I mean, we might get carried away and then I might forget that it's not safe to suck your dick and just do it. I'd rather not take the risk."

It wasn't safe. Since when was his dick not safe? What did he need? A certificate of the Technical Inspection Agency? 

"Good night, Slash." 

Duff waved and smiled and Slash wanted to take him and throttle him or rather throw him over the couch and show him how safe his dick was. Only Duff was taller and stronger and obsessed with kickboxing, and Slash might very well be the one who ended up bent over the couch. Which sounded more and more like an absolutely awesome idea. 

"See you tomorrow."

Then he was gone and Slash turned his attention back to his cock. There it was. Unhappy. Neglected. Discarded. Duff had no use for it anymore. Not without wrapping it into a piece of rubber. It had to happen one day, hadn't it? Duff had moved on and had no use for his friends from back in the day. Slash couldn't even blame him. 

"I could give it up," he yelled up the stairs. "Really. I don't need the Jack."

It took a moment, before a door opened upstairs and Duff's head appeared over the banister.

"That would probably be for the best," he said before he vanished back into his bedroom. 

"See?" Slash patted his cock. "He still cares for you. It's not that he doesn't want you anymore." 

He reached for his bottle, before he remembered that he hadn't brought it over. For a moment he wondered whether it was really worth it. Maybe he overestimated Duff's cock-sucking-skills. He could just go out and find some nice, tall, blond chick. 

He would tell her that he was Slash, the overcool, last real rocker on this planet, and she would sink to her knees and no way in hell would she ask for a condom. She would feel honoured to swallow his sperm, and if it tasted of Jack, it would earn him some extra points in the coolness department. "What do you think?" He nudged his dick, but got no answer. Not that he needed one. He knew what his dick wanted. 

"Fucker," he mumbled tenderly, not sure whether he meant his cock or Duff. If those two didn't love each other so much, life would be a lot less complicated.


End file.
